I haven’t been here in a very long time. So long I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to write about anymore. That I miss him? Yep. That I still feel immense amounts of guilt about his death? Yep.

This weekend is the celebration of life at Sick Kids and we are going to miss it. It really doesn’t matter why, it just matters that he won’t be recognized, no one will hear his name spoken. I say Xavier all the time. Miss S has learned it and calls him Zavier…I wonder if it’s confusing to her that the baby in all the pictures around the house is actually her OLDER brother. I wonder if she’ll be weirded out by his urn when she realizes those are his remains.

I wonder if anyone gives a second thought to him anymore (beyond the four of us here), and if they do, do they know we still think about him, love him and miss him?

I’ll tell you what I think about…I still have issues reconciling S being here and that his death is so wrapped up in her life. That without him dying, she would not be here. At all. Ever. And that breaks my heart, because I love her. So much. So much it feels like my heart might explode some times. And I love him so much. And I miss him so so much. And this makes me feel guilty.

I turned 39 this May, and I decided to write out a bucket list of sorts for the next year before I turn 40. One of the things I on that list is forgiveness. Forgiving myself for his death. This guilt I carry around with me is heavy, it weighs me down so much sometimes that I feel like I’m being pulled under by a giant wave, and my fight or flight response is always flight, so I send my brain away from thinking. I push my mind away from remembering and that just adds up to more guilt because I feel like I can’t think about him…and voila more guilt and it’s a vicious fucking circle.

I remember describing the pain of losing him feeling  like a physical ache that I couldn’t get away from. Like if you’re holding your hand near fire and it gets hot, well you pull your hand away right? With grief you don’t have that luxury, you can’t pull away, I often times wished I could get out of my skin to get away from the guilty, griefy, painfully feelings that his death made me FEEL.

My point to all this (and I promise I do have one), is that I’m not better. Time has dulled the corners and S has salved a hole in my heart, but I’ve been running away from feeling guilt and grief for the better part of three years now. This year I need to head into that fire and not pull away, S serves my love untainted with guilt, I deserve to be able to grieve my son and not keep pointing fingers in my own direction.

The only way, is directly through and I’ve been going around and around for far too long now.

Oh god I am a bad mother. I didn’t know how long it’s been since he died. I had to look at the counter at the top of my blog. That’s shameful right? Funny though, the hole in my heart is exactly the same, the sinking stomach dropping feeling that comes when you remember that he died and isn’t here any more. I wrote once that I was an Xavier-aholic, I still feel that way, like I could take a hit of him at any moment to cease my want.

So where am I though? Really? This is my third year participating in this, and when I wrote last years post, I was pregnant with our rainbow. I was still not sure I would bring a living baby home, and while the point of this project is to dissect where I am in my grief, I cant help but bring her into this. She lived. It didn’t make me feel any better about his death. I think I thought it would. While I knew it wouldn’t erase his death, or replace him or make me feel “better”, and believe me, her life has salved my heart like no other could have, but…he’s still dead right? And I still cry for him. I knew I would always miss him, always- (and I use the term ALWAYS in the literal sense, not poetic) love him, but I thought (and hoped) that the sadness would retreat, not all the way, but enough that it wouldn’t sneak up on me at least once a day. When I walk past his urn, when I see his picture in our kitchen (and the fridge magnets of him I had made), when I see her pointing at what appears to be nothing and giggle. I take a sharp intake of breath and it clobbers me…for a brief moment, and I am able to collect myself very quickly and continue on.

We are coming up to three years and I still CANNOT believe he died. It seems to be a common theme the further on you get in this grief journey. Disbelief now is different than that raw disbelief from the early days, that is shock than anything else, what I experience is this actual jaw dropping holy-shit- my-baby-died-how-did-that-happen-to-us-did-it-happen-for-real?, disbelief.

I miss him. I look at Scarlet and I wonder about all the things he can’t ever be. All the hugs and drooly kisses I will never get from him. So in all honesty, I pick her up and I give her all the kisses that should have been for him and I give her all the kisses that are for her too.

It’s not easier now, it’s just life…as always, putting one foot in front of the other, only now my legs aren’t as heavy.

Wow, I totally miss blogging. I miss the outpouring of words and the relief that it brings. I wish I didn’t feel that this space has become so exclusive to my grief and sadness, but alas it is. I can’t bring myself to write about all the happy things that keep me smiling these because for some reason I have compartmentalized this as just for him and my sadness.

I documented my pregnancy because I was terrified if I didn’t, and she died, I would have nothing to remember her by. I think I am accomplishing the same thing now except in a different way, I use Insta.gram. It makes sense that I have labeled this place for Xavier and all the sadness his life and death created. 

Quick update on M- he began counselling sessions this week and we are hoping for the best as we navigate childrens mental health. I wish so much that I could just kiss this boo boo for him.

After the intake session in March, I could see an immediate change though. He was less sad and dwelled less on Xavier than I have ever seen him. I don’t wish to remove his brother from his thoughts, that would be silly, what we are hoping to accomplish is he learns coping skills to deal with his thoughts of Xavier and how he misses him.

Update on S- All is well. She is thriving and crawling and making teeth like its nobody’s business. I am still actively breastfeeding and she is on solids. I wish she would stop growing so quickly, she is for sure my last baby and I’d like to just push the pause button and make this time with her last a bit longer.

Take care friends, to those I am in contact with out side of blog land…I’ll totally see you around, to any one still reading this, I think this will become his space, and so I won’t be posting much here any more, just his memorials and remembrances.

xoxo

I know I have stayed away from blogging, maybe you think at this point I don’t deserve feed back and comments because of my absence…I get it, bad blogger, bad blogger, but I feel bad posting pictures of Scarlet even though this my space to write, to communicate…and right now…shit has sort of hit the fan around here.

There were signs things weren’t well with our son M. I wrote about his great sadness over the death of Xavier many times. I lamented that he didn’t seem to be turning that corner in the grief process. Finally after a breakdown just before Christmas, we decided it was now time and made an appointment to meet with our pediatrician. We had that appointment on Friday. He made an initial diagnosis of PTSD. We will begin working with the Peel Childrens Clinic this month in getting M the help he needs. He was sure it wasn’t depression…so that is good? I don’t know…I am so confused and hurting over this…hurting for him and all that he has lost along with his brother.

I feel like he is broken, like we broke him. He explains the sadness of Xavier dying like his heart shattering and now he has to pick up the pieces. He told the doctor he thinks maybe Scarlet has helped him a little bit, but I know he’s just being kind. I know he loves her, but I know he wanted a brother so badly, that he fought with the ultrasound tech about the fact that the baby wasn’t a girl but was a boy…

The doctor on Friday asked him some specific questions, one of which was, Do you ever think about harming your self…I held my breath, he made a quick motion with his head, paused and said no…sort of drawn out like noooooo. My heart was breaking for him. I was certain he lied…I was certain the notion of taking his own life had crossed his mind. Later that afternoon at home, while we went over what had been discussed at the Doctors office with my husband he sad, Mom, you know that question (I knew EXACTLY what he was talking about), I lied. I thought so, I told him. We cried, and as I watched my husband wrap his arms around him I fully understood where he was coming from. Back in the days of wanting and waiting to get my beloved on board of TTC again, I felt that desolation. I felt like why am I even bothering with life if this is how it is going to be lived. I remember in the initial throes of grief thinking death must surely be easier than dealing with such intense pain…and then he agreed, and then I got pregnant, and then she was here. Xavier is not replaceable, but I can consider Scarlet a salve and a sort of closure to a large gaping wound. Where is his closure? What is his salve? I think those are the answers we need to help M, find a path that doesn’t always lead to pain. He has even suggested perhaps we have yet another baby (not happening), and that it would be  a boy.

I can’t figure out what he wants, what he feels he is missing, why at two years on he still feel the grief so fresh. I want to help him, and I want him to feel whole again, the problem is I can’t undo a dead brother and I can’t help him unsee all he saw over two years ago…things that to this day he still feels so strongly about.

My poor boy, he’s only ten…he shouldn’t have to worry about any of this.